Superman Never Made any Money
by RipVanWinklee
Summary: While on a dangerous mission, Keith decides to take a dip in a batch of raw quintessence. Lance has a few days, maybe, until they lose their Red Paladin to his wayward Galra instincts forever. How is he to control the volatile nature of a big, territorial space cat, and to save his best friend/secret crush from his own DNA's betrayal, while also under fire from hidden enemies?


"Lance, if you don't stop drooling I swear I'll kick your gay ass six ways from Sunday."

Wiping in a quick, embarrassed motion at his chin, Lance sneaks a glare Pidge's way, "I was not drooling." He mutters under his breath, moving close so that only she would hear. Not that she was particularly quiet but someone has to do damage control.

Hunk leans into his proximity, his tone piteous, "You're not slick, buddy."

Lance crosses his arm at his chest and huffs indignantly, "Excuse you, but I'm trying to pay attention. Shut up!"

Both of his friends roll their eyes in fond exasperation but quiet down, neither interested in receiving a reprimand from Shiro or Allura.

If he's being honest, and Lance prides himself on his golden honesty, he couldn't tell you a single thing his leaders have said in the meeting so far. Oh sure, judge him all you want, but listen. He can't control the way Keith's hair falls cutely over his brow, or how his nose scrunches the tiniest bit (like a damn bunny, Lance can't handle this) when he's concentrating. Lance is just a man, okay? A really weak, really smitten man who loves to stare at his crush from afar and do absolutely nothing to change the sad pining he has been torturing himself with.

It isn't like Lance doesn't care about what Allura has to say...but Keith just looks so good post-workout! There must be something awfully wrong with Lance to find drying sweat and messy hair attractive. Not to mention the boy smells like total B.O. and propellant. So not a thirst-worthy combo. Nevertheless, here Lance stands, mind completely vacant of the very important information the Princess offers and up to his nips in gross affection.

Lance sneaks a quick peek back to the Red Paladin, trying to be as covert as possible. He almost giggles (you hear that?! Giggles! Like some kind of fuckin' schoolgirl!) when the other carelessly pushes his oily bangs back, a futile attempt to corale them. That is so adorable. Why doesn't he just pin them back if they bother him so much? Or cut his hair like a normal person? Now that's a thought. Keith with his hair pinned back...Keith with an undercut a bit like Shiro's...lovely, absolutely fantastic, splendid idea, Lance, really, bravo-

"-watch for them, or you will die." Allura's warning drags Lance's wayward thoughts back to the present, and he blinks in blank confusion.

Shiro glances his way and he swiftly schools his expression into a more understanding one. The man's brows furrow. Whoops, too understanding Lance, ease up, oh shit, he's talking, fuck- "Lance, have you been paying attention?"

And there's that Disappointed Dad Tone™ they all know and love! ...Syke! Now everybody is staring his way, looking a wide range from pity to irritation. Lance grins, cheeks heating ever slightly under his leader's scrutiny, "Of course I have! I love to hear the Princess talk!"

Pidge groans to hide her laughter, hiding her quivering mouth behind her fist. Lance elbows her, not taking his eyes off of Shiro's. Hunk sighs heavily, probably asking God why he got stuck with such a doofus for a best friend.

"Uh-huh." Shiro says, "Then you wouldn't mind sharing the name of the planet we're about to land on?"

I hope Keith-watching was fucking worth it, dumbass! Lance bites his bottom lip, gaze flitting shamefully to the side. "It's...it's, uh,"

"Yeah?"

A movement catches his focus and he makes eye contact with Keith. Even though he looks a mix of annoyed amusement, he mouths something silently at Lance. Wha-oh! He's trying to help him, awh, be careful, buddy! Lance just might fall in love! Keith looks like he's saying a 'v' noise, so Lance follows suit, "Uh, V-"

Keith widens his mouth.

"-aw-"

Keith does something weird with his lips and teeth that Lance can't discern. He cocks his head and parts his mouth in bemusement. Keith shapes it again. Lance understands nothing.

Ever the short-tempered beast, Keith snaps in frustration, "Vawharth, it's Vawharth, you idiot!"

Shiro glares at him with his fists on his hips, "Keith! Don't help him!" He chastises angrily, and Lance breathes a quick, surely short lived sigh of relief that Shiro is no longer reprimanding him.

"I'm sorry, he just looked so stupid-"

Lance squawks, "Hey! I was getting it!"

"Was not." Keith eggs him on with a scoff.

"Was too!"

"Was not."

"Was too!"

"Was-"

"Paladins!" Allura barks and instantly the room falls silent under her vicious tone. Uh-oh, spaghettios, they've woken the beast, poked the sleeping tiger. Her sapphire eyes have darkened into a icy navy, her face all sharp angles and fury and only made complete by the cleanliness of her hair bun. She's every bit the monarch she claims to be and here they've gone and bothered her. Thanks for reading folks, it was great knowing you! Lance is off to die, now!

"You will bite your tongues unless you desire a week on laundry duty, on top of extra drills! And I promise you, I will be leading them." She threatens coolly.

That's all it takes to garner Lance's undivided attention. No way in hell is he doing extra training on top of the spartan regimen Allura already has them on. He likes his muscles still attached to his bones, thank you very much. Quirking a sheepish, apologetic smile, Lance drops his head submissively, "I'm sorry, Princess."

Keith is silent, only stares at his boots with pink-tipped ears from the embarrassment of being called out in front of the team. Lance clears his throat and Keith startles into action, "Oh-uh, yeah, me too."

Allura stares them down a moment longer, causing quite the sweat to break out across Lance's forehead, before tsking, "Quite! Now, if you two are done, may I continue briefing you on the mission?"

"Yes, Princess." The two answer in unison. Seems the only way to get them to work together is to threaten them. Lance is positive Allura will take that into consideration.

She nods and turns her eyes back to the holoscreen. Lance feels like he can breathe again and shoots a dirty look towards Keith. The other scowls at him in return but doesn't do much else.

"As I was saying," Allura carries on, "we have received a cry for help from the government of a small planet called Vawharth, in the Hindexeyous-98p galaxy. The planet has an open door policy for trade and immigration, a little too open. Their planet has become the center of operations for an intergalactic drug ring. The government has always been weak and the gang in charge has replaced many in power with their own goons." The planet on screen appears, surprisingly, a lot like earth except greener. There's a random huge blot of blue, an immense body of water, along the planet's equator. It wraps around in a ring of sorts, a perfect division between the north and south hemispheres.

"As the planet is very open, there is great diversity in regards to species. However, you will find there to be a majority, dominating species." She swipes the planet away and replaces it with three lifeforms. No scores for Lance on this trip, by how the locals look, got it! "They are called Jaqat. From our understanding, the gang in charge has a strict 'no outsiders' policy, and only Jaqat are allowed to join. While they do not have genders, and are asexual, there are three distinct classes." She taps on the first one, the largest of the group, "This is what they call a Hunter Type. What I am showing you is what, on average, they look like. They can range anywhere from human size to- what did you call it, Shiro? A bus?"

Shiro's face goes pale at the thought of such a huge alien, and at the prospect of having to fight one, and he nods, "Yes, Princess."

Lance blanches, "A bus! Jesus! How big must their buildings be? Their underwear must be friggin' huge!"

Everyone ignores his outburst as Allura continues to describe the species.

"You must exhibit extreme caution if you meet a hostile Hunter. They are the most dangerous of the three on land. They have multiple sets of teeth," The image cuts to the alien opening its massive lizard jaws, and sure enough, it has four rows of shark-like fangs protruding from its mouth. Lance feels Hunk shudder beside him so he pats his shoulder comfortingly. "And are extremely fast and strong. They are also exceptionally good at climbing, an evolutionary trait from living on a planet comprised of mostly rainforests."

Pidge raises her hand, "So, what you're telling me is, is that these Hunters are basically invincible?"

Allura disagrees, "Not at all. Their stomachs are extremely sensitive and the inside of their thighs especially vulnerable. If you were to land a blow to either of these vital points, they would die in seconds."

Die in seconds. Is this what they do now? Talk about death like it didn't mean anything? Lance hopes it doesn't come to it. He swallows whatever disgust Allura's casual attitude gives him and soldiers on. The creature is humanoid in shape, meaning it has two legs, two arms, and head right where it ought to be, but all similarities end there. Its scaled skin reminds him of an alligator, and the large pointed ears on the side of its head look relatively bat-like. It must have amazing senses, then.

"It can see in the dark, as well, so be careful. The nights on Vawharth last around fifteen vargas, and the days around five. They actually have a harder time seeing in natural light, so you'll have an advantage for a short period of time. Hopefully we will not be there too long to have to rely upon it." Jesus. "It is not to say you will not be able to see at all during nightfall. The cities are well illuminated for the different species that live in them. It's practically daytime within their confines." The unspoken warning of the territories outside of cities is heard loud and clear.

"Moving on." The Princess enlarges the next type and Lance's mind is immediately brought to the Tall Man stories he used to scare the bejeebus outta his siblings. This one is tall, like insanely so, with great long limbs with too many joints for his liking. It is far thinner and not nearly as muscular as the Hunters, probably due to a lack of proper cardio, Lance thinks. Its feet are long and taloned to snag prey off the ground while at high speeds. Its wings are featherless, just veiny skin stretched taut across thin wiry bones. Its face is the same as the Hunter type, with big green eyes on either side of its head. "This is the Flight type. As you can well see, it can fly. It can reach great speed but not nearly enough to keep up with the Lions. They tend to avoid prey that are bigger and louder than them."

Shiro speaks up, "What are the weak spots we should know about on them?"

"If you damage their wings they will lose all will to fight. It's quite the phenomenon, really. They won't even fight back if you attempted to kill them." Allura informs the team, her face perplexed.

Lance can hardly believe that. Just because your wing got messed up you just let someone kill you? He couldn't imagine.

"And the last of them are ones you should have nearly no trouble with as they hardly come to the surface."

Lance perks at that. Does she mean sea dwellers?

Allura makes the final type appear on screen and Lance jolts in surprise. This one looks a lot like the Hunter type, a bit leaner maybe, but with entirely webbed hands and feet. Large gills cut a path from the back of its jaw to its collar bones, twitching in simulated breathing. The most shocking aspect is that it has no eyes. Its head is completely smooth save for a mouth also, like its counterparts, filled to the brim with terrifying teeth.

"They live entirely underwater. They can walk on land for a time but are extremely slow, and can only breathe air for maybe a varga before having to return to a water source. I would not recommend jumping in the water with them if they wish to hurt you, although I highly doubt you will come across one of them."

Don't count your cows early, Princess. Lance wants to say but contains himself.

Keith takes a step forward, moving closer to Lance (not that Lance is tracking how close they are, or anything), and asks, "Are the Galra involved?"

Allura shakes her head, expression showing her growing unease, "No, and that is what makes this next part so strange." She cancels out of the Jaqat types, draws up a picture of a small glass vial. Inside a glowing, violet liquid resides, sloshing around slow and thick like honey. "The drugs they are infecting the galaxy with? The Vawharth government claims it to be made from extracted pure quintessence."

The team starts, a ripple of unrest making their limbs jittery. Lance clenches his fists by his sides and questions, "How are they extracting it? Are they mining it?" Please, please, please be mining and not, like, ripping it from living beings or something.

"That is what we need to find out. There are three main centers of distribution the government has narrowed down. We are to infiltrate these cities, find out which one is the main producer, and shut it and the gang down for good." Allura commands, determination taking the place of concern.

Hunk interjects, placing a hand on Lance's shoulder as he leans forward, "What does this drug do, exactly? And does it only come in liquid form?"

"As far as we know, it is only a liquid. The user has to inject it directly into their bloodstream for the effects to work. The government has informed Coran and I that the drug mainly acts as an aggressor of sorts. It increases the user's strength ten fold and throws them into a state of heightened emotions. Even the smallest thing can set them off. Long term determinants include anything from cardiac arrest to the body simply shutting down, unable to keep up with the energy it has to expend to work off the drug. It is extremely addictive to most species."

"Like a steroid!" Exclaims Hunk.

"I'm not positive what that is, but sure."

"Princess," Pidge pipes up, her brows furrowed in contemplation, "if we attack one at a time, wouldn't that just give the gang time to relocate, or prepare a trap?"

Allura nods, "Exactly right, Pidge. That is why we are going to split up into teams."

Okay, cool, totally. Split up into teams to take on a whole city, that's cool…. Lance frowns. He has a real bad feeling, a dark whispering in his gut making his skin shiver, but he ignores it. These people need help, and they have to find out where this surplus of quintessence is coming from. Definitely before the Galra do, that's for sure. The gang wouldn't stand a chance at keeping that stuff away from their grubby little paws.

"Shiro, how do you wish to split us? I am coming along to even out the teams." Allura directs her inquiry their leader's way.

Shiro's gaze drags over his team and he answers, "Hunk, you're with Pidge."

The two high five, faces bright with elated grins at being paired together. Lance's lips pull into a worried frown. Shiro isn't going to do what he thinks he is, is he?! No, no, no, Keith hates working with Lance. To the point of jeopardizing the whole mission! They've become closer over the months of being confined together, sure. You kinda have to with only seven people on the ship, and all. They can even call each other friends and hang out from time to time, but that doesn't lessen the sheer irritation Keith exhibits whenever he's stuck on actual missions with Lance.

"Lance, you and Keith make a great team. I have no doubts you'll work well together." Don't fuck this up or I'll kill you both. He doesn't have to say it for them to catch his drift.

And yeah, they do work well together...when Lance isn't hiding his huge crush with childish insults and Keith isn't allowing himself to get riled up by them. He glances over at his new partner, dreading the disgusted expression that Keith must be pulling….

Shockingly, Keith is only staring heatedly at Shiro, as if trying to melt that metal arm of his with his glare alone. If anything, he appears almost worried, and definitely pissed at their leader for pairing them together. Lance's heart twitches painfully in his chest so he bites out a joke to evade his own impending sadness, "Might be an issue, leader dude, I can't snipe with Keith's luscious locks blowing in the wind and blocking my view."

Keith scowls at him and looks ready to start another argument, but one withering frown from Allura shuts him up real quick. Would you look at that? Even Keith's got a brain!

Shiro crosses his arms, "I doubt Keith's hair will be detrimental to the mission. Allura and I will take the remaining city."

Allura hums, pleased with the pickings. Lance narrows his eyes at her. She's just happy because she gets to be with the ever capable, handsome Takashi Shirogane. Fuck, Lance would give his left nut to be as buff and sexy as that guy. Maybe then Keith would spare him more than a rude remark and a passing glance.

The Princess pulls up the planet view again, on which three zones have been highlighted in bright yellow. She points to one at the north, "Here we have Oxxuk, the north most city. There's a district in particular the government's intelligence forces have been scoping out. Hunk, Pidge, you'll go there."

"You got it!" comes the same time as "sure thing!"

"Shiro and I will investigate the claims of activity in this city here," She moves her finger to one beside the equator's sea, in the southwestern hemisphere, "Ogruk. And finally Keith and Lance-"

"-Klance-" Pidge snickers softly to Hunk, who chuckles back. Lance discreetly kicks Pidge's shin and she hisses threateningly.

"-you two will head to Eruk." The final location is smack dab in the center of what seems to be a huge forest. It's kind of hard to tell with how much green there is. "I feel obligated to tell you two that it is the most dangerous of the three cities, purely because of the slums."

Heaving a heavy groan, Lance tosses his head back dramatically and flops his arms about, almost hitting Pidge in the process. She grumbles and moves closer to Keith. "Oh sure, send dream team to the most dangerous one-"

"Lance." Deadpans Keith.

"Yes, my brother from another mullet?"

"Shut up. We can handle it."

Lance pops his hip out and puts his hands on his hips, "Yeah, I can, I don't know about you, buddy."

Sensing another argument on the way, Allura interjects before Keith has the chance to snap a snarky retort that would inevitably set Lance off again, "I have just sent 3D maps to your suits and lions. The official I have been in contact with has revealed the exact locations of the dispensaries. You will head immediately there, no detours. This is a stealth mission. If you are the team to find the source, do not engage." She glares directly at Keith, making Lance chuckle into his palm and Keith give an offended huff.

"Inform the rest of us and wait until we all group. Then we will alert the official, gain the support of their militia reinforcements, and combine our strengths to destroy the heart of all this mess. If we are too early, too late, or the gang is somehow aware of our presence there, they could move their means of production before we even get there." Allura finishes, her grave expression causing even Lance to clue in to just how important this is. She nods at Shiro, handing the reins over to him.

"Suit up, everyone!" Shiro orders, "We leave in ten."

* * *

It is the middle of night when Keith walks Red in between two spiraling trees on the outskirts of Eruk. As he departs from his lion's open metal jaws, he watches Blue settle a few meters away under the comforting thickness of jungle canopy. It would be difficult to spot the ships from above, even with their impressive color schemes, in such dense forestry. They were not too far away from the city, only a fifteen minute walk or so, but they would have landed closer had Allura not warned them to stay entirely inconspicuous.

"Vawharth is not only a trading destination but also a tourist spot. Some alien is bound to recognize the lions of Voltron."

As such the two boys did not even bother putting on the bulkier pieces of their paladin armor, only keeping their right arm braces to pull up the 3D map and maintain communications. The symbol on the chest plates would be a dead giveaway to anyone conscious of the universe's events. Instead they decided to wear only their skin tight flight suits and casual clothes, trying to look the part of visitors on vacation. Keith's bayard is strapped to his side and his knife is a familiar weight on the small of his back. He looks over at Lance.

The other boy, made visible by the brightness of his ship's eyes, is waving a dramatic goodbye to Blue, cooing sweet nothings as if she could answer, "Until I see you again, my love! Stay gorgeous!"

Keith casts a guilty glance towards his own lion. Should he be that expressive? A lingering weight shifts in his mind, a stern no from the sentient spaceship. A small smile tugs at his lips. Of course, Red's not like Blue, she'd rather him not make a fool out of himself like Lance often does. The two lions power down to sleep mode and the dark of the evening sinks heavy like a brick in water.

He gazes to the city. It glows like a mini supernova, fighting the natural order of night and day with its marvel. Meters from their treeline is a stone road leading directly to what he imagines is a cluster of buildings, empty and dark unlike its destination. With the lions slumbering, the lights in the distance are the only source of illumination. Out and away from the city is dark and quiet, the thick jungle around them oddly silent. He shrugs it off. This place isn't Earth so he shouldn't compare the two.

"Stop flirting with your lion and let's go." Keith calls over to his partner while he flicks on the built in flashlight in his arm piece, turning to march in the direction of the dazzling lights of Eruk. He hears an irritated grumble and the quickfall of Lance's hurried steps to catch up. He eyes Lance, "You have your bayard?"

Lance pats his side where his unactivated weapon hangs on his belt, "Duh, I'm not stupid. And I'm not flirting with Blue, I'm just treating her like the lovely lady she is! You should try it with Red sometime. Maybe you'll both loosen up." He switches his light on as well.

Keith scowls but doesn't say much else on the matter; a solid step in the right direction, he thinks. Just don't react to Lance's teasing and eventually he'll give up, like a playground bully. His tactic doesn't bear much fruit, however, as Lance continues to chatter about everything they see (including Keith's hair and "dumb emo face").

"I wonder why they're aren't any cars…." Lance ponders out loud.

"Probably because they're aliens and don't have cars?" Comes the annoyed response from an equally annoyed paladin.

Snorting, Lance chastises him, "What? You seriously think humans are the only ones to come up with gas powered automobiles? PUH-lease. I'm sure they have some form of cars."

"Sure," Sighs Keith, "probably. Maybe they have curfew or something. Or maybe 'cars' or whatever they use are too expensive. We don't exactly know the culture of this place."

Lance nods, "Yeah, you're right."

"Ye-wait-what?" Keith stutters, mouth flapping open. Did Lance just agree with him and say he's right? It's hard to tell in the awkward light of their arm armor, but Keith swears he sees a dusting of red across Lance's nose and cheeks. His indignant expression, it's...cute.

Picking up his pace and using his incredibly (and yes, Keith's been looking) long legs to his advantage, Lance hides his face from view, "You heard me! Mullet head!"

Keith stares at the back of the other boy's head, startled by his own thoughts. Cute? Lance? Yeah, Keith knows he's at least attracted to men but it's usually kind of hard to find grown men cute. And looking at Lance's broad shoulders and strong jaw, covered in a light stubble he must have forgotten to shave, there's no way he couldn't be considered a man. But here Keith is, glaring at Lance's swaying ass as if it told him it killed his dad, and dwelling on the slight tremor in his voice. Making up fanciful fantasies of double meanings in their conversations, in their lengthy glances, is another day in the life of Keith Kogane.

After many moments in surprising silence, the two hit a line of overly decorated buildings. Under the light of the neon signs they shut off their flashlights. Lance stops outside a particularly flashy attraction, cocking his head as he attempts to read whatever the name is. Suddenly he grins deviously at Keith, "Wow! A casino right when you enter! C'mon, Keith, let's play crabs."

"Knowing you, you'd lose everything the first try. Let's keep moving." Keith pushes back his sleeve to pull up the holographic map in his armor. There is a tracker on both him and Lance, their positions being broadcasted back to the castle's computers. He is represented by a vibrant red diamond, while Lance's tracker is a deep blue. His eyes follow the path they are to travel, nose scrunching at the distance they have to cover, "We still have a ways to go and no time to mess around."

Lance frowns at the casino, a longing look in his eye and foot tapping to the music playing inside, "Yeah, yeah, okay. I'm coming back, though!" He begins to fiddle with his device, "I'm going to tell Allura that we made it."

Keith nods and leaves him to it, focusing back onto the map. They are to meet a spy sent from the official Allura has contacted (they learned the official's name is Grand Inquisitor Guw, a very high ranking officer of their police forces, only second to the Kaiser Tymna, their sort of president) who will help them break into the plant undetected. The spy is waiting for them in a motel beside it, in room 2B. He cancels the hologram and looks up as Lance approaches.

"Alright, Shiro and her are in the loop." He informs the other.

As they continue further into the city, the structures grow closer and closer until finally they are practically stacked on top of one another, and the streets are filled with aliens of every origin. What used to be a quiet atmosphere turns a smoky jolly, a plethora of new languages mingling in the chilly night air. It is easy for them to slip and dip through the crowd, hiding themselves among the drunks and bar hoppers. Lance smirks at Keith, "Must be Saturday night, huh? Man, I wanna party!"

Keith rolls his eyes, "I hardly think getting drunk in public is fun."

"You just don't know how to live." They stick close to each other, arms either pressed entirely together or one on the other's heels. Lance glances down at Keith's hand, covered by the gloves of his flight suit, and considers grabbing it. He could very simply explain that he doesn't want to lose sight of Keith and he doubts the other would catch on. Keith can be pretty dense.

In the end, however, his nerves get the best of him and he decides against it. He would never live it down if Keith told Hunk or Pidge about it. Besides, it isn't like Keith would actually want to hold his hand or something. He would probably get grossed out.

Lance doesn't realize, and won't for quite a bit (sorry for the inevitable frustration it may cause, dear reader!), that Keith wants to hold his hand just as desperately.

An alarmed shout breaks Lance out of his daydreaming and he instinctively moves closer to Keith, first thought to protect his teammate and to receive the same safety in return. Keith goes stiff, whipping his head towards the sounds of violence in the middle of a nearby throng of aliens.

Nearby, a large circle has given three creatures a wide berth, watching the scene unfold with wide, intrigued eyes. Keith and Lance push and squeeze their way to a spot from which they can see, and Lance gasps at the sight they discover.

A large green alien with humanoid features is beating mercilessly at a smaller female of the same species with his bare fists. His yellow eyes are frothy and bloodshot, utterly blank save for ravenous animalistic fury. His face holds no intelligence, no real sentience, no sign that he has felt anything but murderous anger in all his existence. The veins in his face and neck, most surprising of all, are practically glowing magenta, crawling slowly up his skin like demented spiderwebs. The female under him pleads with him, begs him to stop, but her words are slurred like she is speaking through thick soup. Strange blue liquid squirts from her busted eye, her blood, and splatters across the ground in an arc. The male on top screeches as another male of the same species attempts to drag him off, earning only a bloody nose and bruised arms for his efforts.

"Please! Zech! This isn't you!" Thanks to their lions' mental connections, most alien languages can be translated in speech, so Lance and Keith understand every word they say. The male cries out, "Why are you hurting her?!"

The female sobs and screams only to be brutally choked, her one good eye bulging out of its socket and nails biting into the attacker's lime flesh. He is bleeding heavily from her scratches, bubbling green mixed with some fluorescent purple running in strips down his arm, but he doesn't even react.

Lance can't help his shout, "What is wrong with him?!"

"It's the drugs!" A female alien beside him wails in dismay, "They make everyone crazy!"

Keith and Lance share a similar panicked look. No wonder the other guy can't get this 'Zech' off of her, he must be insanely strong. Keith reaches for his bayard but halts when Lance grabs at him, "No, don't, Allura told us to blend in-"

Staring incredulously at Lance, Keith hisses, "Lance, we have to-"

"No, Keith, look!" Lance points and Keith obeys, looking in the direction he gestures to.

Two large Jaqat, Hunter types judging by their huge shoulders and muzzles of sharp teeth, dressed in matching tight blue and black uniforms, shove shamelessly through the crowd. One holds a baton of sorts that startles Lance when it crackles with electricity, and the other a hefty pair of magnetized shackles. Without circumstance or warning, they leap at the raging alien. The first Jaqat tears him off like he weighed less than paper, slamming him down into the earth by the nape. When the alien is dazed by the sudden move, the Jaqat hits him several times with the baton, each blow accompanied by the sure sound of sizzling skin.

The alien roars in more acrimony than pain, swiping at the Jaqat in a backhand slapping motion. The Jaqat dodges, taking full advantage of the creature's stunted reflexes due to the shocks to bash the butt of the baton into the bridge of his nose.

A movement catches Keith's eye. He turns to see the second Jaqat, the one with the cuffs, slinking slowly towards the alien's back. When its partner breaks the aggressor's nose, the Jaqat darts forward, using the distraction to wrench the drugged alien's arms back and into the cuffs.

The Jaqat with the baton backs off but keeps his weapon at the ready, gaze steady on the alien. The other shoves him face first into the street, ignoring how he struggled to break free from his confines. It looks to its partner, "Call it in." Its voice is impossibly deep, but it fits its appearance perfectly.

The other two aliens involved in the attack have been moved away to a safer position by onlookers, the female already receiving first aid treatment for her broken jaw and socket. Lance feels a tug on his fingers and he shakily turns to look at Keith. His friend's face is hard set in forced apathy, fiery violet irises holding only determination to finish their mission.

"Come on, Lance. The contact is waiting for us. They've got this covered." Keith murmurs to him, moving closer so they wouldn't be overheard.

Lance suppresses a shiver when Keith's damp breath breezes along his ear, resisting the urge to grab at his arm to steady himself. He swallows heavily, gaze flitting back to the dark navy running in a stream down the female's swollen features. Biting his lip, he nods in a jerking motion, "Yeah-uh, let's go. She'll be okay."

"Yeah."

He allows Keith to pull him from the crowd by the hand. He takes him in heavy silence a few blocks away, where he finally pulls them to a stop in an empty cutoff between two buildings. Keith stares quizzically at him and asks bluntly, "Was that your first time ever seeing a junkie rage?"

Lance blinks at the term and nods his head, "Uh, yeah, the only drug I ever had any contact with was weed, and weed doesn't...it doesn't make people psycho like that…." He frowns at Keith, "What, have you?"

Nodding casually, Keith answers, "Yeah."

"What?! When?!" Demands Lance, "Don't tell me you did meth or something-"

Keith cuts him off, rude, "No, Lance, I've never done any drugs, actually. But that didn't stop me from being around them. I hung out in bad places when I got kicked from the Garrison. Saw a few guys attack each other hopped up on meth and bath salts. It wasn't pretty, but it was always over quick. Either someone died or they were pulled off each other."

"Jesus, Keith." Breathes Lance with a concerned look, "You never got caught up in that, did you?"

When Keith's face darkens something in Lance's chest twinges with discomfort. The other boy shrugs, "Yeah, just one time. I was hanging out with some older people who bought me alcohol and cigarettes-"

"You smoke?"

"Smoked. Past tense. I only stress smoke now." He sounds defensive about it, like it's something he should be overly ashamed of.

Lance doesn't think he should be so uppity about it so he waves it off, "Hmph. Still bad. Continue?"

"I don't know, you going to keep interrupting me?"

"I'm sorry." Lance squeezes Keith's hand, surprising the other. Lance ignores how Keith's eyes jump nervously down to their contact, how they rest there for a long moment, "Please continue? We should probably walk and talk, though."

"Ye-yeah…." Keith murmurs before turning on his heel and tugging Lance along. He drops his hand after a few steps, however, causing absurd disappointment to flower in Lance's chest. "Anyways, I was hanging out with bad types of people at a bar one night in Phoenix, getting drunk and mainly keeping to myself. Eventually I got bored and thought that going out on the dancefloor to find someone as bored as me was a good idea."

Lance tags along at Keith's side, sticking close enough to pick up his low tone. Keith has the map pulled up again, alternating between tracking their movements and watching where they were walking. After another turn the crowd thins out considerably. The road before must have been the main street where all the attractions were. From the look of a map they're in a residential area now.

"Long story short, I was dancing with some guy and things were getting kinda heated. He suddenly started asking me if I had any drugs on me. I should have noticed his track marks and how he kept shaking sooner, they were dead giveaways. I thought the tremors were just him being nervous." Keith elaborates, "I offered him some left over buds and he just, I don't know, flipped shit. He tried to kick my ass and I had to knock him out just to get him to stay down."

Lance keeps his head on a swivel, not making it too obvious he is checking for any tails. He whispers, "Did the police get him?"

"I wasn't going to call the police, Lance. A runaway, drinking underage, in possession of marijuana?"

"Oh, right. Well, I'm glad you kicked that asshole's butt."

Chuckling softly to himself, Keith nods, "Yeah, me too. He busted my lip wide open, though." He turns his head and taps on his upper lip. There's a little white scar there, hardly noticeable unless you've been staring real hard.

"So that's where that came from!" Lance exclaims thoughtlessly, eyes wide. When he realizes he basically just admitted to looking at Keith just a bit too much for there to be any heterosexual explanation, Lance's face explodes with red. He tries to do damage control, "Uh, I mean, c-cool scar, I've never noticed it before."

Oh sweet baby Jesus. Keith's smirking. It's a fine slope, like a carved line in marble, pushing into dimples that just light up Lance's world. His violet eyes glint teasingly in the light of nearby lamp posts, oddly murky with some unnameable emotion as they land on Lance's flaming face. Keith chuckles again, deeper this time at Lance's expense, "You've been looking, huh?"

"PSH!" Lance hisses, stomping a few steps ahead of Keith to avoid his uncontrollable blush giving anymore of his true feelings away, "As if! At you? I don't think so."

"Alright, Lance, alright." Keith concedes, surprisingly easy. When Lance glances back at him he finds that his smirk has grown into a goofy sort of grin, something so different from Keith's usual resting bitch face that his heart begins to thump wildly against his ribs. Stop it, Keith! Your boy's gonna die!

Swallowing in hopes that his dry mouth with wetten, Lance quickly looks away again, "How close are we?"

"We're getting there."

Lance can still hear that damn smile in his voice.

The motel, funnily enough, is structured a lot like the rundown, squat ones Keith used to sleep in when he first got kicked from the Garrison. Its walls are an ugly tan color and the roof is rounded like the other buildings on this planet. The two sneak, quiet as the dead, past the rooms, counting them until they find their destination, 2B. The door is as inconspicuous as the others, just as rusted and the same ugly shade of green. The 'B' is even loose, hanging onto the door by one weakening bolt.

Keith moves past Lance, one hand wrapped around the handle of his bayard and the other poised to knock. Lance takes position behind him, ready at any moment to whip out his blaster to defend his partner. They share a quick nervous look before Keith steels his resolve and knocks three times, in quick succession, on the wood.

For a moment it is quiet and Lance begins to grow ever more cautious with each passing second. Keith's mind plays through the motions of his escape plan if things go south- throw himself over Lance to protect the boy from any immediate threat and then go with his gut from there. All his plans are usually this simple. Why bother getting intricate if something is going to disrupt the order anyways?

Finally, sounds of locks unlatching are heard through the door and it parts, revealing the beady, distrustful mucus-green eyes of what looks to be a Flight type of Jaqat. It inspects their faces and growls, deep and inhuman, "Who was the original Green Paladin?"

Keith blinks. He wasn't expecting a question, no one told him there would be questions-

"Trigel." Speaks Lance, a friendly smile on his face. Of course he can look calm in a situation like this. "Her name was Trigel, from the Dalterion Belt."

The Flight type nods and swings the door wide, walking away from the door and towards the window in the far side of the room. Now without the door in the way they can see the creature perfectly. Allura's hologram is great and all, but it really failed to capture the sheer impressive height of it. It has to be the size of both Lance and Keith stacked on top of each other, with arms that span all the way down to its knoble knees. Large wings - no, really, they're fucking massive - tuck tightly to its back, as motionless as stone. The boney tips of the appendages graze against the ground with every other step the Jaqat takes.

It wears a skintight black suit, complete with gloves and a mask that has been tugged down below its chin, that covers every inch of its skin save for the wings. Huh. Interesting fashion choice, to say the least. Not that Lance can judge, he's pretty much wearing the same thing.

Lance closes the door after him, relocking it even though being in the same room as such a frightening alien does bad things to his stomach. Keith appears composed as ever, his dark gaze tracking the Jaqat like a hawk as it turns to them.

The Jaqat nods its skeleton head, thin lips pulled into a frown, "Greetings, paladins of Voltron. I am Meager Inquisitor Gych. Time is of the essence."

Lance takes a step forward, "I'm Lance, the Blue Paladin. This is Keith, the Red Paladin." He juts a thumb Keith's way, "How are we going to get into the plant?"

Gych waves for him to come forward and uses two long fingers to part the blinds on the window, "The plant is in that old warehouse across the street. At all times it looks empty but there is a shocking amount of quintessent energy radiating from inside."

Lance and Keith join Gych at the window, peering through the opening allotted curiously. The large building on the other side of a broad, vacant street looks dead, alright. No lights, no sound, nobody in the yard or even in the windows. From their distance they can see that the windows and doors are boarded up.

"When they sent me to investigate, it took many moon cycles to gain the gang's trust to enter. Even then, they only allowed me to patrol the upper floors for any trouble." Gych continues, its voice an odd that begins in its chest and tumbles out in a fluctuating mess of high and low octaves. "Luckily I memorized the layout of a majority of the warehouse. However, when you descend further, you will be on your own. Past the basement, I cannot be of much assistance as far as a guide goes."

Keith nods, "That's good enough for us. This is just a recon mission. We'll avoid violence at all cost."

"If you do not, I will abandon you. My position must not be compromised." Gych removes his fingers from the blinds and says, "Please, put these on quickly." He gestures to the lone bed in the center of the room on which two silver cases reside. "The suits will help disguise you."

"Suits?" Lance questions as Keith walks up to a case and pops the lid. The two look inside to see a discreet, flesh colored earbud and a folded bodysuit with a matching mask.

"Yes, paladin. The suit blends into backgrounds." Explains Gych, "I have mine deactivated, please observe." The two boys watch as the Jaqat tugs the mask onto its face, only going high enough to rest just below its lizard eyes. It presses a button in the wrist of the suit and, before their very eyes, camouflages almost perfectly into the floral wallpaper of the room. Its wings still show, of course, as does its eyes, but everything else is pretty much nonexistent. "Unfortunately," Its voice is muffled by the mask, "if I were to try to wear something over my wings, they could be damaged."

Grunting in understanding, Keith begins to strip off his shirt and pants, "These are pretty cool."

Lance glances at Keith before swiftly looking away, shooting a flustered smile at the Jaqat who peers at them quizzically. Keith, apparently, has no shame changing in front of an alien they just met. Usually Lance would complain and make a big deal out of it but since time really is of the essence here he quickly follows his partner's pursuit.

After time upon time of changing in and out of the flight suit, it causes them no pause this go around. In a minute they have both slipped on the camouflage suits and pulled the masks up to the bride of their noses. Lance looks at Keith and chuckles, "Hey, you're not a samurai anymore."

Keith cocks his head, big violet eyes twinkling with mirthful confusion, "Huh?"

"You're a ninja, nin-nin." Lance makes a series of over exaggerated hand movements, "Believe it!"

Now those pretty eyes roll and Lance's chest glows warm when his joke earns him a soft laugh, "Shut up!"

"Hai, Hokage Kogane."

"Oh my God, stop-"

Gych interrupts, its long forked tongue making an irritated clicking noise on the roof of its mouth, "Please, paladins, we must make haste. Be sure to put the communicator in your ear or we may lose one another."

Lance grins sheepishly, "My bad, Gych." He reattaches his arm plate.

"What are you doing?" Gych asks incredulously, "If you put that on it defeats the purpose of the suit."

"Sorry, I have to stay in touch with the boss. So does Keith."

Keith agrees with a hum, "Yup. They don't leave us."

Gych sighs, which sounds strange coming from such a huge and inhuman creature, before relenting, "Fine. Do not get angry when a Jaqat easily spots you. At least the suits damper your human stench."

"Hey!" The two boys bark in unison, faces pulled into similar offended expressions.

Gych waves them off, setting its massive jaw in a stony look, "We need to go. Now."

Lance fiddles with the bud in his ear and then nods at Keith who returns the gesture. They look to their Jaqat companion.

"We're ready."

* * *

It doesn't take the team long to find what they are looking for.

Keith thinks it's kind of sketchy, how quickly they discovered the large extra storage space just around half a mile below the basement. The three slip out from a large air duct, quiet as the grave when they jump down onto a platform high above the floor of the room. It's a good of a hiding spot as any and a good vantage point for Lance if the situation called for it. His attention is not on the platform, however, but on the huge, black vat of violet quintessence down below.

It is a large, industrial sized tank, filled to the brim with the raw energy. Along the walls beside it are various tubes and smaller containers, obviously marking it as a distillery. Lower than that, easier to access from the ground, are long shelves packed with all sorts of packaging. Glass vials murky with diluted liquid quintessence and pill bottles stuffed with hardened forms of it line the edges. Even powdered quintessence is packed tightly in little bricks, like fucking cocaine or something.

Keith is disgusted. Leave it to the universe to have drugs in space, too. He grits his teeth and looks to his companions.

Gych has a thin pencil looking object of some sort in its hands and is pointing it at the vat. It takes Keith a moment to notice the tiny lens in the middle of it. Lance smiles underneath his mask, shooting the two a dorky thumbs up.

"Need to tell Shiro and Allura…. " Murmurs Lance to their Jaqat guide.

The alien shakes its head sharply, "No." It whispers, "They might intercept your signal. Not until we leave." Lance and Keith nod in agreement. Gych pockets its tiny stick camera and turns to them, its green eyes glinting in the soft light of the quintessence, "We have what we need. This is the factory, I am sure of it. There are other rooms as large as this one, probably with more drugs there."

Lance nods again, and goes to boost back into the vent when a shriek interrupts the action. Startled, Lance almost trips over his own feet, only saved by Glych's amazingly fast reflexes. The Jaqat catches him with ease and lets go as the three press into the shadows of the platform. Keith's heart races behind his ribs. Were they caught already?!

But no alarm sounds, as Glych said would happen if they were to be discovered. The three creep closer to the ledge, peering into the dimness to see what the commotion is.

A pained grunt makes Lance flinch. His eyes widen at the sight below.

A few Jaqat are dragging a smaller one into the middle of the room, right before the vat. By the looks of it, the poor alien has already been beaten pretty badly. Its left eye is swollen shut and many of its fangs are missing, bloody jungles of vein and tissue left in their wake. The bigger Jaqat jeer at it, lash out every few seconds to mess with it. The victim whimpers and the sound makes Lance's chest tighten.

"Please-" The held Jaqat wheezes, "-my offspring-please-"

"Quiet!" A larger Jaqat snarls.

Another agonized cry echoes to their hiding spot, heavy with a frightening terror that makes Lance's hair stand up. The Jaqat down below is kicked viciously across the face, its call for help cut short in a stomach-churning gurgle. Lance winces before glancing to his partner for some form of guidance. He watches Keith's grip tighten on the thick handle of his bayard, and flicks his eyes upwards to his teammate's face. Aw, shit. He'd know that look anywhere.

And usually, Lance loves it. The stubbornly set jaw, the heavy dark brows that crowd low to his scorching mauve eyes, the little snarl exposing the faintest shimmer of white teeth- a trait he received from his Galra heritage, surely. In short, it's hot, but not wanted here. Because that's Keith's 'I'm fed up with this bullshit' face, his 'you have to the count of zero before I fuck you up' face.

Lance wants it to be anything but that, any other expression at all, because that's also his 'hey I'm about to do something real fucking stupid' face.

"Keith…." Lance mutters warningly, leaning towards him.

The helpless alien is on its knees now, having been forced up off the floor by its attackers. One gangster cackles with a noise like a hyena and digs its claws into its victim's skull, dragging the head back to expose the vulnerable column of its meaty throat. Lance's breath catches and Keith twitches violently.

The Hunter Jaqat snarls and spits, "Last chance!" From a sheath on its belt it pulls a smooth dagger, the blade rusty with a dark ooze. Lance can easily imagine what it is.

"Lance!" Keith growls back, fiery irises hiding something frantic just beneath their surface, "We have to help it!"

"We can't expose ourselves!" Lance, always the voice of reason in their dynamic little duo, tries to talk him down from the ledge. No, literally, the ledge. Keith is moving closer and closer to the edge of their hiding spot, obviously having every intention to leap down their like some stupid fucking hero or something.

The injured Jaqat stares at the weapon with fear clear in its big green eyes, neck bobbing with the motion of a terrified swallow, but its mouth remains shut. It seems to gain a resolve that strikes a chord deep within the two human boys, and hisses between clenched fangs, "For Kaiser Tymna."

Keith glares hotly at him, "How can you say that?! It's going to die!"

The obvious disgust in his tone hurts Lance but it pisses him off more so he snaps right back, "I know that! But we have orders! If you go down there, you'll die!"

"I have to take that chance-"

"No fucking way, I won't let you-"

The hyena Jaqat tsks loudly, its other heavy hand stroking the captive's face with a mocking gentleness, "Hear that?! For that wh-O-re Tymna!" The insult is translated in their minds choppily, as if their Lions had a hard time finding a word in English that meant along the same lines. Lance stares back down at them, dread settling like a heavy weight in his chest.

Shrugging its massive shoulders, the Hunter Jaqat only grimaces darkly, as if disgusted by its company, "A shame. You die for nothing."

A movement beside Lance steals his attention from the scene unfolding below and he has a split second of seeing Keith's bayard flash across his vision before he is all alone on the ledge. He gasps and lurches forward, hand instantly activating his own weapon and body instinctively aiming without a thought other than oh fuck fuck Keith why did you do that you fucking idiot!

Keith lands with a heavy thud meters from the gang, rolling forward to distribute the blunt of the fall and springing back up onto his feet in one dizzying motion. Lance traces his trajectory before Keith even takes the first step, whipping his blaster's sights to focus on the gangster holding the injured Jaqat while Keith lunges ferociously at the Hunter Jaqat.

Lance sees Gych shake its head beside him, "Your friend is foolish." It hurries to the open air duct and in a second is gone. Abandoning them just as it promised it would do. Lance grits his teeth and turns back to the fight.

The hyena Jaqat startles, releasing its iron grip on its victim's skull and snarling menacingly at the intruder. Before the beast can think about helping its comrade, however, Lance has fired three devastating shots into its chest; one over the heart, one mirroring that, and one in its guts. The Jaqat makes a strange squelching noise as it crumbles backwards by the force of the blasts, a dark ruddy liquid spraying violently into the air like a Tarantino movie. Lance swallows the uncomfortable swell of bile in his throat- he knows it isn't murder, per se, them being at war and all, but it's still killing something. Something that was, y'know, alive.

He's going to have to contemplate ethics later, right now he's got to cover his dumbass future boyfriend. He watches Keith slip easily between the Hunter Jaqat's legs, his sword biting deep in a clean slice across the fleshy inside like a hot knife through butter. Dark red splatters across the dirty floor, a few specs glancing off Keith's body. It's difficult for him to track Keith in the suit, and his speed certainly doesn't help, but it turns out to be a good thing as the Jaqat can't either. He is a shadow of flighty movement in the unnatural purple glow of the vat of quintessence, a glimmer in the corner of their vision that they can't spot until he's already upon them.

Lance grits his teeth and ends another Jaqat gangster's life, resolutely ignoring the sharp stab of discomfort inside. Keith's life is more important that theirs, he tells himself as he blows a hole clean through the first Jaqat in a wave of stomping backup. Cursing under his breath, he watches as six aliens, not including the one he just put down, storm in, blasting through thick double doors like they weighed nothing. His heart drops into his stomach and he whispers into his mic, trying to stay discreet as to not draw fire, "Keith! Six to your left! We need to get out of here, they can hear the shots!"

He hears Keith mutter angrily in his ear and he gets to work, clipping off a few rounds at a lumbering beast. It's huge, that bus sized variation Allura told them about, and Jesus it's infinitely more terrifying when it's not on a holoscreen. It stands easily a Lance or so above the heads of its companions, gaping mouth heavy with bared dinosaur fangs that drip with stringy saliva. The Jaqat snarls viciously and clambers forward, its weight and girth making it slower than the others. The first few shot bounce off like wads of paper, hardly even singeing the Hunter Jaqat's thick skin.

"Fuck-" Mutters Lance as he adjusts his stance, creeping closer to the ledge to get a better angle. If he could just catch the inside of its thigh-

A sharp cry pierces his ear and he jerks into a wince, losing his aim on the massive Jaqat and pressing his fist to his head. He swivels his gaze in a sudden desperation, blue eyes wide with terror because that was Keith's voice he heard through the earpiece.

The Red Paladin, luckily, is still standing, but he holds his hip tightly with a pained grimace. Lance worries into the mic, "Keith?! Keith, are you okay?!"

Keith dodges the blind grab of a small (granted, this meant it was still taller than either of them) Jaqat and lashes out with a well timed uppercut of his sword. It slides easy into the neck of its target and out again, severing whatever arteries are necessary for Jaqat survival. It has only been seconds since the fight began and Keith is already a bloody mess, his tight suit now dripping in the stuff. "I'm fine, just a scratch. Take the big guy out!"

"Easier said than done!" Yelps Lance as he holds down the trigger of his blaster, a flurry of lasers heating the dingy atmosphere of the warehouse. They cut into one gangster that rushes beside the giant Jaqat, effectively mowing it down. The blasts miss its buddy, who jerks to an abrupt stop. It falls back onto its tail before flipping in a graceful arc to land in a crouch.

Lance cuts his aim to it, determined to take it out, and his gut gives a surprised lurch when the alien turns its big head to make eye contact with him. It tracked the light of the lasers from his gun and now is breaking into a dead sprint his way, thin reptile lips pulled back in a fierce, bloodthirsty snarl. The paladin grits his teeth, trepidation building like a tidal wave of nauseating emotion at his position being compromised. Two other Jaqats notice the path of their comrade, gazes jutting upwards to make out the glow of his blaster and the whites of his eyes, and quickly leave the giant beast to deal with Keith.

"Mierda-maldito-" The young man bites, giving up all pretense of sneakiness in favor of firing a barrage of killshots.

The Jaqats, however, are clever, and they cut and dance around in random patterns to throw Lance off. He curses again as they grow closer, frustrated that he has to take his eyes off Keith and terrified of the potential of his own demise. His heart skips a beat in elation as he manages to land a solid hit through the soft neck of one of the gangsters. The other two are unbothered, focused solely on getting to the wall to jump to Lance's hiding spot. They'll be able to do it in one go. You're running out of time, Lance, move FASTER!

He takes a quick, steadying breath, lines his sights on the closer of the two, and pumps three shots in swift succession. It dodges the first two yet falls victim to the last, and Lance gives a little whoop! of victory. The other Jaqat, now close enough to make the leap, hesitates as it watches its friend collapse in a bloody heap onto the dark floor. Lance swings his blaster to set aim on it. His face hurts from how he scrunches it in concentration but that discomfort is drowned out by the roar of blood in his ears.

The Jaqat sees the gun pointed at it, black eyes absolutely livid with a murderous rage that sets Lance's teeth on edge, and swiftly skits to the left. Lance misses the shot and damns his own shit reflexes. He should have taken the shot when he had it. The beast loops in a strange shape before squatting its powerful legs and taking the jump.

Lance startles and clambers back out of instinct, stupid stupid instinct, almost losing his grip on his weapon in the process. The alien lands with a heavy jolt on the edge of the platform, wasting no time and giving no warning before it attacks Lance.

Without thinking, Lance holds down the trigger of his blaster, setting off a series of lasers that cut through the dim light and land everywhere but their intended target. Knowing that using his type of mid-range weapon in such close proximity would be pointless and easy for the Jaqat to evade, Lance does the first thing that comes to mind.

He throws himself to the side, sliding just underneath the swiping claws of the Jaqat, and jerks out his gun in an attempt at a hit. It lands against the side of the alien's thick muzzle, making its head jerk painfully to the side and its body stagger back. Lance scrambles to right himself, legs kicking out in front of him as he shakily aims his weapon. Hitting the Jaqat did something bad to his arm, he can feel the sharp pain of trauma deep in the bones of his wrist and elbow, but he soldiers through it. The Jaqat whips its head back, snarls in an ear-splitting screech, and bounds at him.

Lance breathes, his heart stuttering almost to a stop, and he pulls the trigger.

One solid hole blows through the forehead of the beast. It swings back in an arc, metallic blood spraying obscenely above, and tugs back as if being controlled by puppet strings. Its corpse crashes to the ground and Lance takes a respite to quickly gather his wits about him. He refuses to look at the Jaqat again, slamming his eyes shut and forcing his mouth to open to suck in much needed air. It's shakier than he would have liked but beggars can't be choosers.

"LANCE!"

The Blue Paladin's surroundings come back to him in a flurry of sound and color, and he launches himself to the ledge to stare down below. His face pales and his heart lodges in his clogged throat, "KEITH!" He screams, lifting his blaster to assist his friend.

Another dead Jaqat, the last of the backup other than Large Marge over there, lays at Keith's feet, body still twitching and jittering. The massive alien has its sights deadset on the Red Paladin, its gigantic clawed hands swinging heavily towards him. Lance gasps as Keith narrowly rolls out of the way. Keith jumps to his feet and rushes around the monster, trying to find an opening to get a good slice at its inner thighs, as the neck is not an option this time.

Keith looks fatigued. With the mask dislodged from fighting, Lance can see how waxier his skin looks, can trace the sweat that drips down his thick brow. He is favoring his left side, and obvious sign that his hip wound is hurting him more than he originally let on. Lance throws himself into action, trying to use his higher vantage point to get a solid shot. Every blast he fires glints off like the first ones and he finds himself having to halt mid-fire to avoid hitting Keith on accident. The boy is everywhere around the beast and being thwarted at every turn.

Even though the Jaqat is slower than the others, it is still capable of keeping up with Keith's attacks. Worry burns hot in Lance's gut while fear builds in Keith's, their emotions mirroring each others' as the fight continues.

And then, to Lance's unparallelled horror, Keith missteps and trips over the fallen body of an alien.

"KEITH!" Shrieks Lance again as he stands with the intention to jump over the ledge.

Keith barks harshly, "Stay the fuck there! Do NOT come down here!" His voice is a pained growl, haggard by pain and exhaustion.

Lance cries, "But, Keith-"

"Sta-"

Keith screams bloody murder.

The beast is upon Keith, using the momentary lapse in his flighty movements to seize him in one meaty paw. The human boy twists his body, trying to dodge its mighty grip but it's already too late. The Jaqat lifts Keith by the middle into the air, tightening its hold so hard that the air leaves his lungs in a pathetic squeak.

Lance ignores whatever orders Keith gave him and lunges off the platform. He lands in an awkward tuck-n-roll onto the ground, thrusting himself upwards and ignoring how his left leg now pains him. He sprints towards them, positioning his weapon and shooting blindly into the beast's back with a fierce battle cry.

Of course, they bounce harmlessly of it. Keith struggles in the alien's grasp, pale face aghast with excruciating pain as it begins to crush him to death. His dark gaze flickers to Lance and he shakes his head in a jerky motion, mouth moving but no sound coming out.

Lance wants to sob at the obvious torture Keith is withstanding, but his rage burns hotter. He cannot- no, he will not let this fucker hurt Keith!

"HEY, DICKFACE!" Screeches Lance at the top of his lungs, his taunt accompanied by a slew of laser bullets, "HIJO DE PUTA!"

Shockingly, the beast stops crushing Keith. It holds him steady but slowly turns its great big head, beady eyes falling to a rest on Lance's tiny form. A macabre smirk plays on its terrifying jowls, amusement clear in its evil gaze.

Lance steels himself even though he practically almost wets his pants, "YEAH, I'M TALKING TO YOU, ASSHOLE!"

The Jaqat cocks its head, apparently bemused by the sight of something so small standing up to it, and speaks, "Such a little thing you are!" Fuck, its voice is crazy loud, enough that Lance can feel his eardrums vibrating. "You want this back?" It shakes Keith a little, like a child showing off a toy. Keith cries out and slams his fists uselessly against the creature's skin. It doesn't even spare him a glance.

"LET HIM GO! FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!" Lance shouts, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. He tightens his grip on his weapon, has it aimed perfectly centered on the Jaqat's head. It'll take a few shots to break through that dome, for sure. Whatever. So long as the beast drops Keith. Lance can figure out what to do from there.

He glances at Keith. Fuck, he doesn't look good. Broken ribs, for sure, judging by how Keith seems like he's about to pass out. Lance would open fire now, but what if the Jaqat decides to pop Keith like a big ol' cherry? He can't take that risk.

"Let go, eh?" The Jaqat cackles a booming laugh, its terrible yellow fangs shining with sticky spit in the quintessence's light. Lance notices that the beast is standing oddly close to the vat, it large enough that it can easily reach the open top. The mauve liquid inside continues to swirl unnaturally, seemingly drawn to the violence. "You're funny, little one. I will do as you ask."

Cautious relief floods Lance's system like a drug, so strong that he has to blink away a stray tear. Good, good, anything for Keith, he'll do anything for him, even fight gigantor one-on-one. Fuck, he'll do it naked if that's what it took.

Keith eyes the beast warily, reaching up to wipe at an irritating drizzle of blood that pours from his mouth. His insides feel like they're on fire. Something is definitely broken, and he even thinks he can feel his rib poking into his right lung. His breathing has an unnerving rattle to it that makes him sick to think about. Darkness swirls in the corners of his vision, lurking silently, at the ready to drag him into an abyss he is sure to never wake from. He would hack but finds he can't even do that.

The Jaqat does not drop Keith to the ground like Lance had been expecting. Instead it swings Keith to the right and dangles him above the vat.

Any hope comes crashing down as Lance shakes his head, voice filled with a desperation that sounds foreign to his own ears, "No, no-!"

Keith stares at Lance as his legs kick futilely above the cask. He can feel a strange warmth emanating from the sea of energy down below. It makes his skin tingle and electrify. He tries to wheeze something, maybe a last "vol...tron…?" to make Lance's grief stricken face brighten into that smile he loves. What a sight to see before the inevitable end. Whatever he says comes out as a whisper. He still wears his earpiece, so knows Lance can hear him but, funnily, the thought doesn't give him as much comfort as it should.

And then, without preamble, the Jaqat releases Keith.

And Keith falls.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Lance hears it, murmured like a summer breeze in his ear, caressing the side of his face as a lover would.

"-love...you...Lance…."

The Red Paladin disappears into the murky, radioactive quintessence with a resounding splash! He can't fight the suction pull of the bizarre currents. He sinks to the bottom of the pit, broken body as heavy as a rock.

Lance stares blindly. He can't hear anything- can't hear anything but Keith's wobbly voice, can't hear anything but the splash!

He can't even hear himself scream.


End file.
